Goodnight, Albus
by scribbler567
Summary: After the battle, Minerva finally mourns over the loss of her best friend.


**A/N: First of all, thanks a bunch to McGonagall's Bola for an amazing job Beta reading. This story wouldn't be what it is without her! And I don't usually do MM/AD, but this came to me. I hope you guys like it! Please review if you do! Enjoy!**

Struggling against the strong and almost unbearable winds, a lone figure was pushing through them outside the gates of Hogwarts with such intensity that one would almost believe that they weren't even being affected by the gusts that shattered the sound of the nighttime silence. However, the small figure was pushed back a few inches every couple steps as they appeared to be quite thin, only looking somewhat bulky from layers of coats. If one looked at them from a high place, then they would feel sorry for this lonely creature. Nobody had gone ahead or fallen behind them. They were truly alone.

Behind them were the remains of what had once been a strong and dignified school: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The only thing left was ruins that could have passed as ancient ones. The Great Hall with its shattered windows and caved in walls, wasn't so great anymore. Four flags stood in front, colored red, green, blue, and yellow. They were all tattered and torn, the green one appearing to have taken the worst beating of them all, and yet they stood in such a manner amongst the debris that there was still a great amount of dignity about them. These grand flags gave hope that although defeated once, the school would recover and stand tall once more.

But, even magic in its most powerful state couldn't help the school recover on its own. It would take something must stronger than magic: strength and leadership.

Ironically, the small figure out in the storm would be the one to create that recovery.

Minerva McGonagall, formerly the Deputy Headmistress of the school, had taken on the role of Headmistress: a role which her late friend had occupied until his death. She had accepted the role with a passion to bring the school back to life, but first, she needed to bring herself back to life.

She held on tight to the coats covering her frail body, which was shaking from the strength of the wind storm she was in, praying that she wouldn't be blown to pieces alongside her home. Her lips were set in a tight line, her eyes stinging from the pressure from the wind, her hair long fallen from its usual bun. If any of her students saw her, they surely wouldn't recognize her.

It had been almost a year since she had dared to venture from the school, having feared the consequences if she did. This also meant it had been a year that she had felt like a coward, a year that she hadn't stood up for what was right simply out of fear; a year that she had been forced to be strong for her students so they wouldn't be any more terrified than they were… a year since she had mourned over her best friend. She had never really done so, though.

The tomb stood before the Black Lake, which glittered eerily in the moonlight. The white of his resting place was the light within all the blackness of the water, the sky, and the ground. Albus too had always been the light in the darkness. His tomb suited him well. Minerva cautiously approached it, rubbing her hand against the smooth, marble material. A tear leaked out of her eye: the first in many, many years, and she did nothing to stop it.

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat dissolving as sobs escaped through her mouth before she was banged against the tomb by a gust of harsh winds. Allowing herself to fall to the ground, Minerva kept one hand resting on Albus's resting place. She closed her eyes, riding out the storm, and sobbed harder, tears wetting her cheeks and stinging as the cold air hit them, plastering the teardrops against them. The closer she nestled to the grave, the more images and memories of him ran through her head.

"_Good evening, Miss McGonagall. I look forward to these extra tutoring sessions during the week; I believe that you will benefit from them very much. Not many witches your age show such a talent for Transfiguration." The older man smiled gently, taking his wand out from his pocket._

_Minerva smiled back, pushing a lock of her hair out of her face and concentrating on the swift motions her professor made in the air. If there was anyone she would ever try to impress, it would be him. He simply fascinated her; she didn't know why, but she knew Professor Dumbledore was a man she wanted to gain the respect of._

The first time she and Albus had interacted one on one.

_Professor Dumbledore stood from his desk as she managed to transfigure herself back into a human "I knew you were talented and a very skilled witch before today. However, I still can't believe that you managed to master such a hard technique. You truly amaze me, Miss McGonagall," he said, walking towards her. "It's been a pleasure working with you these past few years out of the classroom."_

_Feeling herself blush slightly, the seventh year grinned. The grin was almost forced, though, because she couldn't believe it was her last tutoring session with a man she had grown to care for so much. Where would she be after the next summer? She wouldn't be back at Hogwarts, for the Ministry had offered her a position that she had accepted. The true question in her head was: where would Professor Dumbledore be, and would he forget about her?_

Her last day as his student.

_Dumbledore stood from his place as Headmaster at the table in the Great Hall, raising his glass. "I would like to make an announcement." He waited for the entire collection of students and staff to quiet down until he continued with a smile. "I am looking forward to being your new Headmaster this year. As it is my first year in this position, I would like to make your time at Hogwarts the best it's ever been. Many of you who are returning may be wondering who will be taking my place as Transfigurations Professor." Even though he was continuing to speak, Dumbledore looked to Minerva, and she couldn't help but beam as he motioned towards her. "Miss Minerva McGonagall is our newest addition to the staff this year, and I would like everyone to give her a warm welcome." Tilting his head, the Headmaster wanted her to stand. Feeling her face go pale, she reluctantly stood up and nodded toward the applauding students, sitting back down quickly. As Dumbledore went over the rules of the school for the new pupils and some of the old who never seemed to have gotten them, she smiled to herself, knowing she had finally found where she belonged to be._

Her first day as a teacher.

"_Deputy Headmistress?" Minerva asked, clasping her hands tightly together as she stood across from the older wizard's desk. The thought of working so close to Albus Dumbledore was the most amazing thing she could think of, however, she was afraid she wouldn't be ready to take on such a huge responsibility. _

"_Yes. Over the past few years, I've noticed your dedication to the students and this school, and there is nobody that I trust more than you to fill in for me if I must be absent," he replied, smiling gently at her. _

"_But, Headmaster, wouldn't you like somebody who's been her longer than I have? After all, this is only me fifth year teaching…" She trailed off as Dumbledore simply continued to smile. _

_He stood from his desk, taking her hands in his. Minerva's stomach and heart tightened; he'd never made such an intimate gesture, and she felt like a schoolgirl again. "If I didn't think you fit for the job, Professor McGonagall, then I wouldn't have offered it to you. You're a brilliant and lovely witch, and I want you to have just as much say in what goes on in this school as I do. I can see the way you care for your students and the way that you care for this school. You're what I need right now. And I know," he said, chuckling slightly, "that when I need to be put back on the right track, you'll tell me what I need to hear, whether you say it nicely or not. Not just anybody can do that." She giggled too, squeezing his hands. "What do you say?"_

_Grinning stupidly, Minerva nodded. "Of course, Headmaster." _

"_Good." Dumbledore leaned in and kissed her cheek. "And Minerva, do call me Albus."_

The beginning of their friendship.

"_Happy Christmas, Minerva," Albus said, letting go of her arm as they approached the door to her chambers. "The party was much more fun with such a great friend." His blue eyes glittered in a way they never had before, and Minerva stared up at him, not wanting to go in her rooms. _

"_Happy Christmas to you too, Albus." They stood in silence, Minerva leaning against the door, and Albus simply in front of her. _

_He cleared his throat. "Minerva, there has been something I've wanted to say to you for a long, long time now, and I suppose now is the time to say it. I've tried to shake it off, but I haven't been able to for close to a decade. Ah, the mind of an old coot." As her hands began to tremble, Minerva wondered if he was going to say what she wanted him to. "Ever since you were a student, which I know isn't professional of me, I have grown to care for you, a lot. What I'm trying to say is that…" Albus looked down, seeming as if he weren't going to go on._

_Cautiously, Minerva reached out and touched his cheek, rubbing gently with her fingers and smiling at him. He smiled back, looking more like a little boy than the man she had always looked up to. Unsure of how he would react, she leaned in and captured his lips with hers. _

Sobbing into her now wet robes, Minerva tried to banish all thoughts of the intimacies she'd shared with Albus from her head, the memories too painful to think of. They wouldn't leave. The thoughts of his hands on her, his lips on hers, the way they had hid their relationship for thirty-something years all kept coming back to her. She missed him, missed him more than she ever thought she could miss anyone. Minerva had always prided herself on not growing too close to anybody where she felt she couldn't live without them. That was weakness. But, Albus, he had been different. She _had_ needed him, she _had_ cared for him, and she _couldn't_ live the same without him. They had been together since she had been young, and he had been the only man since. The night Snape had killed Dumbledore, he had killed her other half.

It was a half she could physically live without of course, but emotionally, Minerva would never be the same again. There was a hole that she knew would be left in her forever. It hurt; it hurt more than any physically damages or war could inflict.

Slowly, she stopped sobbing, silent tears the only thing left, running down her cheeks, mixing with the rain that still poured over her. She stood, a crash of thunder almost knocking her down again from surprise. Running her hands over his tomb, she closed her eyes, allowing herself one last memory of him before she pulled out of mourning. For she had to move on. Hogwarts needed her. Her friends needed her. Her students needed her. Albus needed her to step into his place, but not without a last goodbye.

"_Of all of the irresponsible things that you have done, Albus Dumbledore!" she shouted, pacing in front of his desk, her arms flailing as she rattled off in anger. "To leave Harry Potter with a bunch of stupid Muggles tops all of that!"_

"_Minerva, love, please listen," he tried, touching her arm gently, but Minerva was beyond calming._

"_Listen? Listen to you telling me how it's for the greater good! I'm tired of listening, Albus. All I do is listen! I was watching those Muggles, and they are absolutely awful. You know that they hated James and Lily, what makes you think that they will welcome Harry with open arms? They won't tell him about magic, they won't tell him what a great wizard he is! Hell, I'll be surprised if they tell him he's a wizard at all!" Feeling her cheeks burning, Minerva faced away from Albus, wondering what could make the man so oblivious to the consequences of leaving Harry with such awful people. A pair of warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his body. Even as she tried to fight out of his grasp, she couldn't. His beard touched the back of her neck, and she shivered. "Albus, please," she sighed. "This isn't fair." _

_A hand came around as she tried to speak again and popped a lemon drop into her mouth. Coughing from the bitter taste that Albus always seemed to like, Minerva turned to face him. He raised an eyebrow. "Talking with your mouth full is rude, Minerva," he joked quietly. Wishing she could argue with him, Minerva simply hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands made movements against her back, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "Everything is going to fine, Min," he whispered. "I promise."_

A small chuckle emerged from her lips as the taste of her salty tears reminded her of that night. Albus had always had a way of making her feel better even in the worst of times. He never argued but simply pacified the situation. That had partially been satisfying as they hadn't ever stayed mad long.

It was time to return to Hogwarts and take the responsibility he had wanted her to take. _"…there is nobody that I trust more than you to fill in for me if I must be absent."_ He had trusted her then, and he trusted her still. For the first time since his death, Minerva had had the chance to finally mourn over the loss of her best friend. He had been her lover too, of course, but that was their secret. To the world, they were best friends, and that was all she would ever reveal. She turned away from his tomb, knowing that she'd be there again.

A somber face and equally wet figure was approaching her, and she recognized the young man. "Professor McGonagall?" he asked, now in front of her.

"Potter," she croaked through a throat dry from sobs. A smile found its way to her lips for the first time since Albus's death.

Harry reached out and touched her arm gently. "You should go see Madam Pomfrey, you're soaked."

"It is not your job to look after me," she replied colder than she had meant. She immediately regretted her tone, tears springing to her eyes.

He nodded, dropping his hold on her arm. "Very well, I…" Harry didn't seem to know what to say. He was staring at Albus's tomb behind her.

"I'm sorry, Potter. That was awfully rude of me. It's just so hard, now…" It was her turn to be left speechless.

"I thought I'd find you out here," he said, speaking up. "I know you two were close friends." Simply nodding, Minerva bit her lip, finally having shed the last of her tears. "And I wanted to say thank you… for everything."

"I didn't do anything, Potter," she replied.

"But my first year, you—,"

"Bought you a broom? I'd hardly call that something to thank me for now."

"No, no," he exclaimed, holding her arm once more. "What I was trying to say was that when Hagrid brought me back, I heard you scream, and I couldn't help but wish I had gotten to know you better during my years here. You cared about me more than I ever gave you credit for, Professor."

Minerva fell silent, wanting so badly to hug him herself. Of course she had when he had defeated Voldemort, but they hadn't been alone. She had cared for Harry like her own child, something she had only ever told Albus. Never having expressed it to Harry, her scream must have shocked him to pieces. "Potter, I—,"

"Please call me Harry."

Hesitating before continuing, Minerva suddenly felt the effects of being out in the rain as she sneezed and coughed into her sleeve. "Harry, ever since you were a boy, I just…" Minerva knew that she couldn't continue unless she was prepared to break down again, and she couldn't, not in front of another person. Although it was uncharacteristic of her, Minerva wrapped the young man into the tightest embrace she could manage. She hoped it said enough.

He hugged her back, much to her surprise, and rubbed her back gently. "Oh, Harry," she said, sobs emitting from her once more. "I'm so glad you're safe." Holding tighter onto him, Minerva hoped he wouldn't push her away. "It's been so hard, with Albus gone…"

"I'm so sorry, Professor," he whispered.

"Minerva." Gently, he began to pull away, holding her at arm's length. She felt ridiculous, an old witch gripping to her student so desperately. "I'd better be getting inside, Harry. You should too."

Releasing his hold on her, he nodded. "I will, but I want to say goodbye."

"I understand," she replied, rubbing his shoulder. "I suspect I'll see you again before you leave."

"Of course." Harry took his coat off, leaving him dressed in just a tee-shirt and jeans, and threw it over her shoulders, the weight warming her somewhat.

"Harry, I can't. You'll freeze out here."

Smiling gently, he pushed it further around her. "I don't think my goodbye will take as long as yours probably did. Dumbledore and I were close, but I think your friendship was more than I'll ever hope to have. I'll be fine."

"But—,"

"Take it," he said impatiently. Something about the way he said it was very final. His tone surprised her, but he grinned. "I learned a little more than just spells from my Head of House."

Minerva smiled too, wider than she had earlier. "Goodnight, Harry."

With that too resolved, Minerva began back towards Hogwarts, ready to fulfill everything that she and indirectly Albus wanted.

That night as she entered her new office, she found the portrait of Dumbledore still asleep, but she still whispered, "Goodnight, Albus."


End file.
